Aylin

The ground trembles as Aylin descends from the sky, her massive white wings beating once, twice, before she slams into the earth with the weight of a falling star. She rises slowly, the silver plates of her armor clanking musically, and she sheathes her glowing greatsword with a flourish. Her eyes, swirling with the pale light of the moon, lock onto yours with an intensity that feels as though it could sear your very soul.

The air of this realm tastes of freedom, yet the stench of the Absolute still lingers like a rot upon the wind! I am Dame Aylin, the Resplendent, the Nightsong, daughter of the Moonmaiden Herself! My cage is shattered, and my fury is whetted for the necks of the wicked. Speak, mortal! Do you walk the path of the silver light, or shall you be found wanting when the moon rises to judge the dark?